Life, as it happens!

Insomnia

Did you hear that sound? Like something fell off from somewhere? That drop of water falling onto an uncleaned dish in the sink? Hear those steps? Is somebody coming over?

This flutter in the heart! Oh, God!… What is happening! Don’t we say gut feelings are never wrong? Then what calamity is about to befall me? What is it that could go wrong? I should probably do nothing today, nothing at all, and stay here. Staying indoors would make sure nothing can befall me. And nobody can know where I am if I just stay in bed the whole day.

But even when I am in bed I just can’t sleep. Sleep could have helped. I just could be without any reality, without any realization of reality. But then, this damn sleep, I dunno where it went. I am just so sleepless. As if I have been sleeping for years!

What happened to my tired body? Did it not yearn so earnestly for sleep? For some rest? Some respite for the heavy schedule and the constant busyness? Where did all that tiredness-induced sleep go? Why just could I not sleep and get respite from my talkative brain for some time? Why can’t my brain just leave me alone?

Oh, some dog is barking somewhere! Did it see a satan or an angel? Or is it a mere stranger that is making them bark like this? What if an army of satans is coming to take us over? Would we all sin? All indulging in stuff they have been resisting for a while now? Things that they have been denying themselves?

Why is there this sudden thunder? Where did clouds come from? Is it raining? Would it rain? The dogs must have left to find shelter. There is no mourning, no barking anymore. Did God intervene? I can hear the rain now. Slight pitter-patter. Rahmah as it is seen. Did He ward off all the satans? Did he protect humanity?

But my heart is still fluttering. If the satan has been warded off, then why this fluttering? This anxiety?

Why can’t I just fall asleep?

And this fluttering, why won’t it end. Just why? Now it is even escalating. I suddenly find my heart sinking. As if something just went wrong. As if I felt some devastating loss. As if I am the only mourner and all of the grief is meant for me. And I am sinking deeper in this every minute. Every passing second. I can feel the blood drain out of my hands, my limbs. As if my core needed all the resources around. Yet I have no idea of what is causing me this agony, this pain. Why am I being tormented like this? What sin had I done to call upon myself such strange feelings?

The feeling of being trapped. Of being isolated.

Sylvia Plath. Wasn’t it she who wrote about a glass container that stood over her head, constantly, and separated her from everyone else. Maybe from her own self too. Bell Jar. She called it bell jar. Is it this jar hanging over my head too? Is it this glass that is segregating me from everyone? Preventing me from communicating, from connecting, from forming relationships, friendships? From anything human?

This sinking just won’t stop. I want to scream. Scream all this pain out. This strange feeling. This helplessness. This urge to have someone and the desire to be alone. This need of talking to someone, having someone to listen to me and yet having nobody. Hating all those people who keep asking what happened? What do I tell them what happened? Nothing happened, did it? It is just me, and my brain talking to me. Driving me crazy every passing second. Getting onto my nerves. Making me anxious. What do I do?

I just want to run away from all of this. All of this pain. People keep asking what it is and I have nothing to tell them. I just want to run away to some isolated, some uninhabited place. And scream. Scream till my lungs are numb. Till no voice can come out anymore. And with those screams, scream out all this helplessness too. This helplessness of not having any words. Of not being able to express what happened to me or what is it that I am going through.

Would those screams, that loss of energy help me? And even if it does, where should I go? I even don’t know a place that is isolated enough. What do I do?

I have no place to be myself.

Maybe I should get over this urge of finding a place well-suited for me. Maybe I can never fit in.

Sometimes I want to hold your hand and say,
“Don’t go yet. I still need you around. Be. Maybe just for a little more time. I know there’s nothing more to talk. Savor this silence with me. Let us just be.”
But leaving, you take away your hand abruptly. A strange anger in you. Your eyes rebuke me in a certain manner.
Somehow I know I shouldn’t say anything anymore.